The Black Death
by mesmer
Summary: Draco is a mediwizard who is working to find a cure for a mysterious strain of a fatal disease that is affecting Hermione. Will he find a cure in time, or will he have to let go of someone who has warmed her way into his once cold heart?
1. Chapter One

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Chapter One

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- July, 2014

"Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down...

"Draco, do you remember singing that song as a little kid? I do... How could children's song be about something so... horrible?"

"I don't know what you mean. And yes I do remember it, however, I did not partake in the singing."

"Hmm... " she murmured tranquilly, with her eyes still shut, "It was so innocent back then. I shudder to think that I had had fun dancing around and singing about the death of so many people. Did you know? The song actually has meaning. In medieval times there was a terribly fatal illness spreading rapidly over Europe. It was called the Bubonic Plague or Black Death. The plague's victims would develop red spots, hence the 'rosy', on their skin that eventually would turn black. Back then, posies were thought to prevent the black plague from affecting them. It actually did have some magical properties that were showing in the form of slight changes in health, but no one in the magical community could unlock the secret to make use of them. Our best potion masters, mediwitches, and wizards still haven't found a way. Ashes were what remained of all the burned bodies of the infected deceased."

Draco smiled from his relaxed position on one of the two cozy visitors' chairs. He already knew all about the technical symptoms of the disease, but it always amazed him how she never floundered in remembering and then telling him little bits of intriguing information aside from the everyday knowledge, even in her condition. This was a good sign. She was still her old self and she hadn't given up fighting yet. He knew her well enough to know that she'd never stop fighting. 

Hermione was pretty lucky to have the room that she was now located in. In her opinion, it was the best one in the whole ward. She had a standard bed that was charmed to adjust to its occupant and change temperature for maximum satisfaction. Hermione had brought along her favorite quilt that jazzed up an otherwise plain resting-place. A low set of wooden drawers served as a holding place for her possessions as well as a bedside table for water and her many books. Surprisingly, there was a fireplace that could be lit during the chillier months. She had the peach colored room all to herself. That could be advantageous and disadvantageous as well. One good thing was that she didn't have to put up with anyone's' disgusting habits. The not so good thing was that she became lonely sometimes. She was a human being too and she also needed the company of another. There was only so much books could do... 

She looked a tad bit paler than normal today, but her usual warm smile that graced her face never failed to place one on his. She was sitting up today. Another good omen. Sometimes she'd be in such a terrible state that it was difficult for him to visit her. That's saying a lot considering this _is _Draco Malfoy here. He didn't like to see her coughing convulsively, in any way in pain, or miserable. That's not the way he remembered her. 

The crisp white sheets were pulled up to her waist where she had her hands folded in front of her. Her hair was droopy, unlike the usual brown poofy mess that he had grown to love and now missed. That didn't matter to him though. 

Hermione loved it when she could make Draco smile. Even if it was small and tight-lipped, just as it was now, it was a smile all the same. Whenever he'd visit, which had become extremely frequent, she'd want him to be happy and not mull over the horrors of life. They were both twenty-eight now. She knew Draco had seen too many disturbing things in too short a time for any normal person. When Draco would feel like opening up, she would listen with complete alertness and concentration he was grateful for. 

"I actually never knew that, " Draco announced, a slight smile still present on his handsome face.

The sun was setting now. The pearly blinds of the windows had been drawn open upon request of Hermione. Beyond the window, one could see the several short buildings situated around St. Mungos. The clouds that blanketed the earth, obstructing the sun, were a multitude of oranges, blues, pinks, and violets. It wasn't the best scenery, but it wasn't the worst either. The room lights were off on account of the headaches they incurred in Hermione. Golden-orange laden rays of sunlight reached the silent pair as they sat pensively. Hermione had closed her eyes and Draco was looking off into the horizon.

The amicable silence made Hermione feel as if time had stopped. She would be perfectly content to stay in this moment, here with Draco. During these moments with Draco, she didn't have to think about her emotional stresses and worries. She wouldn't have to think about the fact that she was alone in this world, and her most urgent predicament didn't occupy her thoughts. 

Hermione opened her eyes and they adjusted to the light. She could handle the little pain that the beautiful light brought along with it. Slowly, she turned her head to gaze upon Draco. Everyday since the first day that he had initiated his routine visits, Hermione, being as perceptive as she is, noticed subtle characteristics in his demeanor that depicted his mood. To any other who happened to glance at Draco Malfoy and then be asked to try to describe what he was feeling, just by looking at him, that person would describe his feelings as something along the lines of content and peaceful. However, if you were to look closer, and you had acquired the talent of reading Draco Malfoy like an open book, you would find that he would indeed not be so content and peaceful after all.

Draco was sitting regally in his cherry wood chair with his left arm residing on the armrest. He was leaning slightly to the left so that he would be able to have his curled fist supporting his chin with his elbow on the other armrest. He had on his uniform plain white robe on hanging over expensive black slacks and a black casual shirt. His polished ebony shoes and a black leather belt with a snake decorating the buckle finished off the high-class look. 

It was not the rest of his body that portrayed his feelings to her; it was his face that did. She spotted a hardly noticeable crease between his slender blonde brows, and she could pick up on the wistful or contemplative look in his fog-gray staring eyes. He had a delicate nose and pale pink lips that were currently unsmiling but nor were they expressing displeasure.

Hermione wondered what it could be that was troubling him.

As she was watching the steady rise and fall of his toned chest and thinking about whether she should ask him about his thoughts or not, the highly annoying buzzing voice of a female employee ricocheted off of every wall and broke the comfortable silence, "Visiting hours have now ended. Visitors, please leave as soon as possible. Thank you."

After a couple of seconds, Draco, with a deep intake of breath, pushed himself up and slowly arose from his seat beside her bed. He went over and hugged Hermione tightly, not wanting to let go. He could feel how frail she was through her thin customary white gown now, and it broke his heart. She could only hug him back weakly. He heard her exhale a contented sigh. 

Draco whispered a faint "I'll see you tomorrow" and a "Don't lose hope" before he released her. He presented her with one of those small smiles of his, which Hermione gladly returned, and strode with ease out of the hospital room. Hermione watched him go until the hem of his white mediwizard robe disappeared around the corner. 

When he left, Hermione was given way too much reflection time. Of course she'd read to pass time, but that tired her out to the point where she would feel nauseated. Then, all she was capable of doing was thinking and remembering and pretending. 

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- August, 2013

Hermione was currently immersed in a meeting in Dr. Draco Malfoy's office. He was the best in his department: Strange and Rare Ailments. When she had walked into the rather large room, she had been astounded. It was much more lavish than any of the other offices she had had the _pleasure _to sit it. Of course, it shouldn't have surprised her. She and everyone else in wizarding Europe and farther knew he was filthy rich. 

There was an ornately carved mahogany desk closest to the back of the room where two comfortable looking chairs stood side by side in front of the desk. A black low-level file cabinet was placed next to the left side of the desk for convenience. Mahogany bookshelves lined both sides of the spacious rectangular room. They were filled to the brim with books of all shapes, colors, and sizes that she was just itching to go investigate. A leafy green plant was perched on the top right corner of the neat desk along with an extravagant phoenix feather quill. There was a vast stain glass window in the center of the back wall that cast patches of color in every direction. An off-white carpet enveloped the floor and a tall antique lamp stood in the right corner. To the right of the door, a detailed embroidered tapestry was mounted. 

Of all things, they were discussing her health. If someone were to tell her that this would occur ten or more years ago, she would have been hysterical. 

"The results from the tests now confirm that you indeed have a magical strain of the legendary Bubonic Plague, " Dr. Malfoy recited from behind his desk, while looking once again at some papers that obviously contained her test results in manila folders. 

Hermione's outer appearance didn't react to the news at all. The only movement from her was the blinking of her eyes. When he had announced the news, she had felt her stomach drop unpleasantly. Before, when he had said that they would run the tests again just to make sure that the data was correct, she had gained a slim shred of hope that this was all a nightmare. She couldn't be terminally sick! It was impossible! She hadn't committed any appalling sin that she knew of. She hadn't accomplished all of the things that she had wanted to yet! So why did she deserve this?

Draco patiently continued to watch her, to see if she would do anything at all.

"So what would be the best course of action?" Hermione asked suddenly.

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Very typical of Granger. She was one to always be controlled in the direst of circumstances Draco mused. He placed the bearers of bad news back into their manila folder primly and put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands under his head. 

"Well, this is a rare case. One way would be to take it slow, make sure you don't get stressed out, and stay isolated with a confining spell, " Malfoy said with serious professionalism, "At first, I think it would be wise to visit... every two weeks for a check-up on how you're holding out. If we find that you are not fit to be out and about, I think you should remain here permanently where you can receive attention whenever necessary. Another way would be to move here immediately so we can observe you. During either of the two options we would be trying our best to come up with possible cures for this strand. You must understand that while this disease has never shown itself before, the magical aspect of it classifies the strand as never before encountered. We have practically no basis to start experimenting with, meaning that if we do find a cure, it will be a miracle."

"What do you believe the best option for me is?"

To say he was startled would be an understatement. _Why in the wizarding world would she want my opinion? Shouldn't she be a little mistrusting right now? After all I had done to her in the past? After all the threats, insults, scowls, and hexes that we had hurled at one another during our Hogwarts days? _Draco asked his extremely confused self. 

Draco thought about her question and took into account that she would probably not like being in the hospital, but it would most likely be better for the rest of the local population if she were to stay. 

"In my opinion, moving here at once would be the best for yourself and everyone else. As you might know, this disease is contagious. Also, you'd be here whenever we needed data to conduct experiments."

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It does make reasonable sense. I see no reason why I can't trust him. He's actually been very professional throughout this whole ordeal. Hermione recalled.

"Okay, " Hermione agreed with a nod of her head, "I'll take residence here right away."

"Wonderful. I'll have a room arranged for you in this ward. When you get to the reception desk, give the receptionist your name and you will be led to your room. We can work on payment matters on some other day. You shouldn't have to pack too much. We have practically everything here that you might need."

Hermione was staring at her folded hands that resided on her lap. She was digesting and processing all that she had been told. Her stomach felt like it had dropped even lower and frowned as she came to a realization. She asked one more question.

"So basically, I'm going to die."

"I said no such thing," Draco said quickly, "There just isn't a very large margin of chance that you will live through this. We might actually pull it off. Have some confidence in us Granger."

"Ha ha, " Hermione fake laughed, "After all you said, I'm having just about zero confidence." 

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AN: If I have any grammar or spelling mistakes that you find, please feel free to inform me. Spellchecker and proofreading don't always eliminate errors. ^-^ Thanks a bunch! 

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~mesmer 


	2. Chapter Two

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Chapter Two

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- August, 2013

After that horror of a meeting, Hermione apparated back to her small house in an unplottable part of the country side to pack her necessities and to make arrangements for her living quarters. 

When she felt solid ground, she opened her tightly shut eyes and took in the front door. It was very silly of her to still be afraid of apparating. After ten years of experience, and her reputation to boot, one would think that she was highly capable of apparating efficiently. She still felt a tinge of nervousness every time she did it though. She did not enjoy knowing that there was something other than ground beneath her small feet. 

Pocketing her wand and taking out her keys from her ordinary black purse, she unlocked the door and turned the knob. The smell of simmering stew wafted over to her the instant she stepped through the door. A memory of a time when she was ten, the year before she ever knew she had wonderful magic running through her veins, bombarded her thoughts. She saw herself coming through the door of her childhood home and announcing to her mum and dad that she was home. She remembered the wonderful smell of her father's stew that permeated the air throughout the whole house on cold winter days. 

She smiled and looked at the floor. _If only I could be that kid again._

Hermione took a deep breath and closed the door that she had been holding onto in her moment of remembrance. She sat down on her brown squishy couch and tiredly pulled off her plain black shoes. She couldn't wait to eat some stew and lie down. Sadly, certain circumstances wouldn't permit her to do so. With a sigh, she walked to the back of her small but cozy home and entered her room. Her walls were covered with pictures, moving and not, of family and friends. The image of Harry, Ron, and Ginny waving caught her eye. It had been the summer of sixth year when that wizarding photo had been taken. She had had a wonderful time there laughing and playing with her friends and eating Mrs. Weasley's superb cooking. Life had been blissful then as well. Hermione turned her head toward the right where her twin bed lay. On her bed was one of the many Gryffindor house burgundy and gold blankets. During the last night boarding at Hogwarts, she had filched the covering because she had felt an impulse to be bad just that once. The blanket was really soft and kept her warm too. 

Treading along the plush white carpet Hermione thought _I'm really going to miss this place._

She reached her mirrored closet, opened the sliding door and pulled out a large duffel bag, which she promptly flung onto her bed. Hermione hated packing. It was such a tedious task.

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Early evening had arrived, and the dark trees outside swayed with the wind. The top of the skyline was the only part that had the blue characteristic of day. Hermione had finished packing her belongings and had arranged for Ginny to come by her house once a month to check on things while she was gone. To say that Hermione was exhausted was an understatement. She had not eaten anything since breakfast, and the loud grumbling sound her stomach was emitting proved it. 

She stalked her way to the kitchen happily. She would finally get to eat something, and the things she had had to do were finished. She had just ladled a generous amount of stew into a ceramic bowl and was about to shove a huge spoonful of the tempting concoction in her mouth when her phone rang. Hermione stopped her spoon midway to her mouth.

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Rrrr. Just when I finally get some time to relax, some buffoon decides to call.

Hermione angrily dropped her spoon in her bowl ungracefully, leaving a big puddle of soup to linger on the antique wood table. She set her hands on the edge of the table and pushed hard getting up. Stomping all the way to the irritating phone and clenching her fists, she cursed whoever was on the line. 

Hermione yanked the phone off its holder on the wall and harshly barked out, "What the **hell** do you want from me? I've had a really frustrating day today so I will not deal with games. Well? Spit it out already!"

There was a moment of silence coming from the other end.

"Granger. You don't have to yell. I can hear you perfectly fine without the yelling. I know you've had a hard day, and I'm really sorry to disturb you. However, I have some information that might come in handy when you arrive at St. Mungos."

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to calm down when she heard Malfoy's voice on the other end. He really hadn't done anything to her so there was no excuse for her to displace her anger.

"Sorry Malfoy. It's just that today was tough," Hermione replied in a lower tone.

"I understand. Don't worry about it. Anyway, the reason for this call is to tell you that I have your quarters in order. Your room number is Z536. Check in at the desk and someone will show you in. I'll be visiting tomorrow at about ten in the morning to start routine check-up. I'll see you tomorrow Granger."

"Same to you, and thanks Malfoy."

"No problem."

Both hung up there. It would feel awkward for both parties to say "good-bye".

Hermione sighed for the fifth time that day. She was not looking forward to being cooped up in a stuffy hospital room everyday day. Sure she would be able to secure loads of reading hours under her belt, but she would miss working.

She trudged back to her dining room table and looked at the mess she had created forlornly. Her chair had toppled over backwards in her fit of rage, and she discovered that she had overlooked the soup that was ruining her beautiful table. 

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No!

Hermione quickly grabbed a paper napkin and started to try and salvage what nicely stained part of the table she had left. When she finished discarding the last napkin she had used, she looked at her table. There was a big yellow spot and multitudes of small spots lining the surface where soup had once been. Her table was ruined! Tears slowly blurred her vision as she recounted what had occurred that day. The test results, the packing, hunger, shock, anger, and her table... that was the last straw. It was such a miniscule thing that triggered her breakdown. She felt her nose growing hot as tears began to run down her cheeks. There was a pain present in her heart. It wasn't physical hurt, but it made her cross her arms over her chest as if she was protecting herself from some unknown danger. This pain made her tense the muscles in the shoulders and neck and made her curl up on her squishy brown couch. It made her let out a choked sob before making her cry harder. 

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What have I done to deserve this? I think I've tried to be a good person, so where did I go wrong? I watch over my charges. I'm polite... what did I do? Maybe I should have donated to more charities, or maybe I should have been a little more patient with that older lady that other day, or maybe... maybe I shouldn't have neglected my chores yesterday."

Of course, these musings were nonsensical thoughts conjured up by a confused and hurt mind. The pain in her chest was still there and it was affecting her thinking. It was tugging at her heart. There was more to this pain than the knowledge of her imminent death. Past events she had buried away were still there at the back of her mind. She had decided not to deal with them, so they had stayed with her as a heavy burden. All she wanted to do on that unfortunate day at that particular time was to let sleep wash away her feelings, and that's just what she did.

Morning had come, and her forgotten stew had gone cold.

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Ugh... the stupid phone is ringing... again! 

Hermione awoke to the sound of her clear green phone alerting her that someone wished to speak to her at this early hour. Sunlight filtered through the blinds that had been left open and forgotten. She could hear birds chirping cheerily which was quiet the opposite of what she had felt the night before. Hermione found that her left arm and leg had fallen asleep and that her body was stiff from lying in her curled up position. She groggily and painfully got up, stretched, wiped away some accidental drool, and then tiredly walked to the phone to answer it.

"Hello?" she answered quietly.

"Granger? Why are you still at home. Our staff was expecting you yesterday, but you didn't show. What happened?"

Hermione paused for a second before answering, "I was really tired yesterday, and I accidentally fell asleep on the couch. I had not intended to raise alarm. Tell you what. I'll be there as soon as possible. It's just that I have some things to clean up and take care of."

He sighed. "If you're sure Granger. I'll… I'll have to see you later on in the day though. I have other patients scheduled for their routine checkup."

"That's fine by me Malfoy. Till then."

"Till then."

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Hermione had wiped up her mess, set her other affairs in order, grabbed her bag and purse, and was out the door before you could say "Quidditch".

She chose to take the scenic route as opposed to apparating right from her welcome mat clad doorstep. She believed that she had time to spare. After all, when you know you're going to die, you think differently when making the tiniest of decisions. 

She took deep breaths of the clear cool countryside air. This morning the clouds had gathered in cotton ball like masses, and the sky in between was a calm blue. The day promised to be a good one, but one never knows. 

Hermione was headed to the rather large incline of grass covered earth that barred her sight from her children. The rise was quite steep, but there were uneven patches of long green grass that could be used as footholds. 

By the time she reached the zenith of the knoll, she was breathing heavily, and her legs ached. The short sojourn was all worth it though because the sight of her charges sleeping and basking in the sun filled her heart with happiness and warmth. She started to tear up when a thought occurred to her that she might not see them ever again. 

She blinked back oncoming tears as she started the descent toward her precious pets. Hermione walked up to the invisible barrier and touched her hand to it. Automatically, a small door appeared in front of her to walk through. Right after she entered the holding area, the door disappeared. She put her bag and purse down near the place where the door had been and walked briskly to her favorite pet.

Vora was a wise old girl, and she was very sweet. She could be very forceful as well for she was the matriarch. It had taken a while for her to warm up to Hermione, but when she did, the two got along handsomely. 

Hermione put her hand on the rough and dusty maroon skin of Vora's face. Vora lazily opened her left eye and viewed Hermione's smiling face. She then proceeded to stretch like a cat, which caused some shaking of the earth. After that, she lay back down, picked Hermione up gently, and put her against her left side, as was the custom for the two friends. She wrapped her tail against her side, securing Hermione in. Vora was about to fall back asleep when Hermione's voice rang out.

"I'm sorry old girl. I can't stay for long. I wish I could, and I wish I didn't have to leave at all, but I do. Wishing won't get me anywhere."

Hermione laid her head against Vora's side and patted it three times. Vora's cat like violet eyes looked sad as she uncurled herself to let Hermione go. Hermione walked away from her side and went directly in front of Vora's face.

"I'll try to come back and visit as much as I can, okay? I might not be able to but I will try."

Hermione gave Vora one last big hug on the nose, and let her go. Vora had gotten used to this strange human custom and knew what it signaled. If it was possible, Vora looked even sadder after that gesture. She blew out some hot air and squirmed a bit. 

Vora watched the little human girl walk away with a sinking heart until she could see her no longer.

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- September, 2013 

I hate this stupid sickness. 

Hermione was now located in room Z536. She was reclining on her warm bed in one of the hospital's uniform gowns. One could see that it was late afternoon through the open blinds of Hermione's window. There was a slight breeze whistling through the different colored leaves of the maple trees outside. She had a glowing fire burning in her very own fireplace. It was constantly chilly in the ward now that autumn was there. Hermione practically had a fire roaring all day every day. She had been reading a thick ancient book about the many uses of wolfsbane, but now she was staring at the book in her lap with her eyes unfocused.

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It's ruined my life. I can no longer do the job I love anymore. I don't have any freedom. I have to depend on all of my friends to get things for me and take care of my duties. I'm a defenseless nuisance. 

Hermione had been going through this stage for a while. She had been very depressed after a few weeks into her stay at St. Mungos. When any of her friends would visit, she'd put on a happy face and try to be pleasant for them. A few hours after they left the euphoria of the visit would wear off and she'd be sad all over again. 

Hermione looked to the clock, which read _nine fifty-nine. _Malfoy would be here soon. 

He arrived exactly when the clock struck ten. He was always eerily punctual.

"How are you today Granger?"

It was a required question. She could never tell if it was out of concern or duty.

"I'm fine. My legs are a little stiff, but I think it's because I've been sitting here all morning. And… I have started to cough."

Malfoy was scribbling down some things on a clipboard while she was talking. Today he wore beige slacks, a white collared shirt, and a tie under his white robe. He also had the ever-present black hair tie that held his hair back. Dr. Malfoy, she found out quickly, was a 'no nonsense' kind of wizard. He expected all those under his command to do their jobs efficiently and correctly. If the task wasn't done to his standard, the unfortunate person was let go of. He did show mercy once in a while where mercy was mandatory. 

"Alright then. I'm going to perform a body scan. Lie flat please."

Hermione did so with little difficulty, and Malfoy did the scan. Her legs and chest area gave off a little red glow, but Malfoy figured it was the discomfort Hermione had reported.

"Okay. The scan shows that your legs and chest area are not in normal condition. I'll check your breathing first. Can you sit up straight?" 

Hermione nodded. Malfoy put down his clipboard as she did as she was told. Hermione folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to make his observations. Hermione felt his slightly cool hand against her very warm bare back and blushed. He had done this a million times, and still she could not help but feel embarrassed. 

He did a spell and said, "I want you to inhale deeply and slowly."

Hermione followed orders and suppressed the urge to cough. 

Then she heard him say, "Good. Once more."

She breathed in again, but this time she couldn't stop herself from convulsively coughing. After she was done, Malfoy took his hand off her back.

"It seems you're developing a cold," he said as he picked up his clipboard.

"No kidding," she replied sarcastically.

He gave her a pointed look. 

"I'll forgive you for that one because I know you aren't well."

"Whatever."

Malfoy chose to ignore that comment and continued to run his quill along his parchment. He then said another spell that Hermione immediately felt the effects of. She could breathe much easier now. 

"Thank you Malfoy," she said quietly as if defeated.

He made a 'mm' sound in reply.

"I need a blood sample."

"Fine."

Magic was a wonderful thing. To get a small amount of blood, all one needed was a painless spell. 

"Would you like to talk to me about anything before I leave?"

Hermione was puzzled. _That came out of nowhere._

He sounded genuinely concerned, like a friend almost. He had never done this before.

"Er… no, not really. Why do you ask?"

Malfoy paused before saying, "Various personnel have reported seeing you in a very depressed state. I was wondering if you'd like to talk to me about it, or maybe you might like talk to someone else. I had to go through a bit of counseling training, and I might as well put it to use."

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Oh. So he isn't concerned. He's a pretty good actor because he sure fooled me. 

"There's nothing wrong, " she replied stiffly. "I'm perfectly fine."

Malfoy regarded her with a thoughtful gaze before answering, "If you're sure. Just so you know you can talk to me or any of the nurses here."

"I'll remember that."

Dr. Malfoy left to go check on his other patients, leaving Hermione to contemplate the many aspects of Draco Malfoy. She'd been doing that lately too. She figured that she must be insanely bored. 

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That was odd. I could have sworn I saw real concern in him. Guess I was wrong. He's never done that before, so why should he start now? 

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"So… what were you working as before you came here Granger."

Malfoy and Hermione were having a conference because Malfoy had said that he needed some information. He had finished his rounds and was just finishing up some extra work. He did not hold procrastination in high regard. 

"Well… I'm a dragon caretaker and expert."

Malfoy was sure surprised by that one. 

"Really?" He put down his quill and laid it on the clipboard that was on his lap. 

"I always thought you'd go into the Transfiguration field or healing. If you don't mind me asking, what do you normally do on a regular business day?"

His interest in her occupation registered itself in her memory. 

"Well I do practice healing, but it's not for humans. I check on their health every week, take care of their habitat, and observe them. Others in my department help with the feeding and cleaning. I'm actually experimenting with dragon saliva."

"Have you found anything?"

"Yes actually. It has some healing properties for external lesions big and small. There might be other uses that I haven't discovered as well."

"That's fascinating! Why isn't it on the market yet?"

"I just started experimenting, but we're expecting it to be released next year when the product has finished ministry testing."

"Ah. I see."

The rest of their conversation had gone on well after that unusually friendly chat. He asked her more questions about work, daily routine, and asked various other questions regarding childhood and likes and dislikes. He apparently wanted Hermione to be as comfortable as possible. He also asked her some questions about potions. Malfoy had been polite and had been a real gentleman over these past couple of months, but it still felt weird because in the past, all he ever did was make her miserable.

"Thanks for answering my questions. Your answers might be able to help my research team find your cure."

"Anything to help."

Malfoy stood up from his cushioned chair next to Hermione's left. In doing so, he made the small crystal vase on one of the waist high tables wobble and fall over, spilling water down the side and onto the floor. Malfoy put a hand to the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. A hardly noticeable tinge of red could be seen on his face.

"Sorry about that." 

He muttered a reversal spell, and the vase picked itself up and gathered its lost water and pink daisies. 

"It's not a problem at all, seeing as how we're magic folk, " Hermione said in forgiveness. 

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione smiled and did a little wave. Surprisingly, Malfoy grinned back.

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AN: Does anyone know when Draco and Hermione's birthdays are? 

Thank you to I'm-Mike, mary, mother, name, pineappleeskimo, and lavender baby for reviewing. Your reviews made me extremely happy.

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Mother pointed out that there is a different version of the "ring around the rosie" song. You're right. I am American. The correct wording should be "atishoo, atishoo, we all fall down." Thanks for that correction. 


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